Puddles

The rains keep pouring down
Washing him clean of the past
He'll forget them all soon
The people who brought him through
Ones who ripped him apart
Others that sewed him back together
They'll all be gone and downstream
Memories are nice, but that's all they are
Just memories, no warmth or life
Each puddle shows a clip of the past
Where he cried and bled though the pain
And others where he held friends up
A crying shoulder that never moved
But the select pools, the smaller ones
Show the happy memories, now faded
What ever made them so happy?
Underneath it all, it's empty
Just mud and rocks, both real and memory
His skin takes the water in
Lets it run down his hair and face
Lifts his head to look forward
There's a glint in his eyes
And the puddles go black
Steam is rising off his shoulders
While his chest lifts and falls with breath
Marching through the puddles of lost memory
Each one brings him under more
Consuming him into their emptiness
Ten, twenty paces later, he is still walking
But anyone who could see him is losing him
He falls through, to the depths unknown
Anyone else who steps in the water is fine
But they consumed and dragged him under
The people were right in saying,
"You can't live in the past
or the missed chances will consume you"
They didn't know how right they were.